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WOLVES 14 Good Weekend August 15, 2009 he easy – and dare i say it tempting – story to write Translating about Peter Garrett starts something like this. “Peter Garrett songs on the was once the bold and radical voice of two generations of Australians and at a crucial juncture in his life decided to pop stage into forsake his principles for political power. Or for political action on the irrelevance. Take your pick.” political stage We all know this story. It’s been doing the rounds for five years now, ever since Garrett agreed to throw in his lot with Labor and para- was never Tchute safely into the Sydney seat of Kingsford Smith. It’s the story, in effect, going to be of Faust, God’s favoured mortal in Goethe’s epic poem, who made his com- easy, but to his pact with the Devil – in this case the Australian Labor Party – so that he might gain ultimate influence on earth. The price, of course – his service to critics, Peter the Devil in the afterlife. Garrett has We’ve read and heard variations on this Faustian theme in newspapers, failed more across dinner tables, in online chat rooms, up-country, outback – everyone, it seems, has had a view on Australia’s federal Minister for the Environment, spectacularly Arts and Heritage, not to mention another song lyric to throw at him for than they ever his alleged hollow pretence. imagined. He’s all “power no passion”, he’s living “on his knees”, he’s “lost his voice”, he’s a “shadow” of the man he once was, he’s “seven feet of pure liability”, David Leser he’s a “galah”, “a warbling twit”, “a dead fish”, and this is his “year of living talks to the hypocritically”. The denunciations have been savage and have flowed forth former rocker from one end of the country to the other. Until recently there was a giant poster plastered on Darwin’s Woolworths now in a very building declaring: “Peter Garrett, The Ultimate Sell-Out.” Garrett’s mouth hard place. was taped shut with an adhesive plaster marked “ALP”, and his forehead branded with an imprint of his own blood-soaked left hand. The poster has since been removed but the casual shopper can still see a portion of Garrett’s trademark chrome dome covering a few bricks in the wall. More than 3700 kilometres away, near the entrance to the Upper Florentine Valley in Tasmania’s south-west wilderness, protesters have been staging tree- sits and chaining themselves to rusted cars for years now in a vain attempt to stop the logging of some of the world’s most treasured native forests. When I visited the forest last year, I found the windows of one of these old cars covered in images of our Environment Minister, two scrawled cap- tions demanding to know: “Will The Real Peter Garrett Stand Up” and PETER “How Can You Sleep When Our Old Growth Is Burning?” It’s a far cry from the man who for nearly 30 years performed to adoring AND THE crowds across Australia and around the world – Time magazine’s “walking icon of outrage” who sucked in the oxygen, spat out the lyrics and left no one in any doubt where he stood on all the important issues of the day. WOLVESBut as he told the Federal Parliament in his maiden speech on December 8, 2004: “I have protested, sung, marched, written, organised and cam- paigned on those things I simply believed were important, not just to me but to the life of the nation. I have reached the point where I want to take the next step into formal politics.” Peter Garrett was always the politician masquerading as the rock star. In 1984, he stepped away from the disguise by declaring himself a candidate for the Australian Senate at the head of the Nuclear Disarmament Party ticket. He failed to get elected because the Hawke Labor government decid- ed to pass its preferences to the Liberals, indicating just how alarmed it was by Garrett’s pull on the young and disaffected. Subsequently, he served two terms as president of the Australian Conservation Foundation and also joined the international board of Greenpeace, but it was obvious that his sights were set on higher goals. In an interview for HQ magazine 19 years ago with this writer, he said that although he was not plotting his way to the prime ministership, he wouldn’t say no to the prospect. “I don’t think at this stage of my life that Portrait Tim Bauer I can say that it’s something I would not do … that, no, I wouldn’t want to August 15, 2009 Good Weekend 15 be PM. Yes, I would be quite happy if enough people voted for me, and there were a whole lot of people working with me, to have a go at that job.” After Garrett’s five years in Federal Parliament, there is now virtually no one who thinks this is achievable. To some political observers, he has become a parenthesis in the national equation, particularly after being stripped of climate change and water responsibilities following the 2007 election. “I think the press gallery is always pretty hard on people,” Tony Wright, The Age’s national affairs correspondent, says, “and once Kevin Rudd de- cided to split environment in two and give Penny Wong climate change and water, the gallery began discounting him as a star force. “You don’t normally feel great sorrow for politicians, but I do feel sorry for him. This is a person who had such a huge profile and so many expecta- tions laid on him and then the political machine consumed him. A lot of people think he’s Faust, but I don’t. I think he’s howling in the wilderness.” Peter Garrett as Faust or King Lear? Either one has its own cheerless ap- peal, but Bob Brown prefers the parable of Little Red Riding Hood when discussing his old environmental comrade. The two have known each other since the forest protests of the early 1980s, when Garrett stayed at Brown’s home in Liffey, in northern Tasmania, the night before addressing a rally at Cradle Mountain. Brown remembers the night well, because the car they were travelling in was hit by lightning. “I don’t know what the significance in the order of the universe was about that particular event,” he says now, “but I remember it clearly and I remem- ber the enormous value and persuasion having Peter at that rally gave us.” Two decades later, in April 2003, Brown paid a visit to Garrett at his home in Mittagong, in the Southern Highlands of NSW, to try to convince Garrett to join the Greens. A few months earlier, Garrett had announced his retire- ment from Midnight Oil to pursue a political career. Says Brown: “I told him how the [wolf dressed up as] Grandma Big Party says to Little Red Riding Hood, ‘Come a little closer, dearie’, and then swallows up Little Red Riding Hood and you never hear from her again. I pointed out the tragedy that had befallen Cheryl Kernot … and talked about how the big parties of the left always put on their green spots in opposition and shed them in government. That’s exactly what we’re seeing in Australia in 2009.” ask garrett about this on a brisk, sunny morning in june as we travel in his Commonwealth car from Sydney to the Blue Mountains on I what happens to be World Environment Day. I ask him whether he ever imagined seeing his own personal brand trashed to this extent. “I was certainly aware of the fact that generally in the hurly-burly of media and public debate about politics, politicians can become road kill,” he replies. “That’s a clear and recurring pattern and some suffer slight grazes and for others it can be more fatal. But the point of all of this – and it doesn’t matter how much cynics gag on people saying they go into public life “You don’t Beds Are Burning. “It was very prophetic,” she tells me, “because I was cov- because they want to serve – the fact is that’s what the greater majority do. normally feel ered in burns … and I didn’t know whether it was a dream or hallucination “And if your preoccupation is with securing your brand, then you’re not because of all the drugs, but he definitely came into my room.” cut out to be a politician. That wasn’t my preoccupation. It wasn’t when great sorrow Shortly after her release from hospital, Jenny attended the first local foot- I was a musician and it isn’t when I’m a politician.” for politicians, ball match after the fires to witness Garrett perform the national anthem To be fair, there are other ways to assess the brand. During the 2007 federal but I do feel with her son-in-law, Ross Buchanan, father of her lost grandchildren. election campaign, despite two disastrous slip-ups, Garrett found himself sorry for him. A short time later, she turned in her chair to find Garrett sitting next to her. constantly in demand from colleagues wanting to bask in his reflected glory. I think he’s “I thought I’d like to meet you in the flesh,” he told her. He turned up in at least 17 electorates, including most of the marginal seats, howling in the The two of them talked for 20 minutes, and Garrett revealed to the and whenever he did, the crowds were bigger, happier, more passionate.

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